First Encounters
by megan1000
Summary: What if first contact was not the first time a human ever met a Vulcan? What if a vulcan man and a human woman met long before Amanda and Sarek? What if love defied the expanse of the galaxy and a stranded man found a home in a place that would otherwise be a prison. Please check it out and leave a review. With college permitting I will post a new ch every Sun.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, Please R&R. With college permitting i will post a new chapter every Sunday.**

**Chapter 1: First encounters:**

She is sitting in a hard wooden chair looking out the small window in her cramped bedroom. She looks out across the expanse of her small ranch, watching the sun set slowly. The red and orange clouds mixing with the dull blue sky; reaching out and touching it, grasping it, and filling it with an eerie warmth that threatens oh so slightly to fade into nothing before her very eyes. She stands up reluctantly with a soft sigh, smoothing out her wrinkled jeans and straightening her dark gray blouse. She walks downstairs, her hand trailing down the railing as she goes. She grasps the door handle and tugs at it until it yawns open.

She walks across the green lawn, then over the mud; still wet from the heavy rain that morning. She looks up into the sky and wonders if the sky is planning to spill open again and pour down over her. She hopes not, thinking about the leaks she's been planning to fix in the old barn, the cold muddy ground she hates her animal sleeping in. She stands still in front of her black mare, holding her hands out to rest around her elongated face, pulling her in and closing her eyes against her soft hair.

"Shh Midnight" she says petting the horse who is agitated from the approaching storm that she can feel brewing in her old joints. "Come on sweetheart, its just a little drizzle" she whispers softly into her mane before leading her into the barn before her hair gets soaked any further. When she has finally manages to open the heavy barn door and usher the animal inside she shivers against the cold and places Midnight in her stall. She takes the blanket from atop the half wall and places it over the mares back. She kisses her snout and looks up when a drop of water hits her head. "Tomorrow," she starts "tomorrow I'll fix it, I swear." She closes the large doors behind her.

She locks the door with heavy eyes and as she starts to pocket the keys, rolling her shoulders and neck in a tired gesture, she hears a large and sudden crashing sound. Her body jolts from surprise and she drops the keys. She looks in the direction of the sound and watches as the small fire is dampened by the now raging storm. She shudders at the sound of the thunder and wonders absentmindedly whether or not it was a car crash as she remembers the small dirt road in that direction. She lives in a very small farming community, her own ranch rather isolated. If a crash had happened here no one is likely to be alerted except for her, especially not an ambulance. Before she thinks to rush to her kitchen phone she grabs her keys from the mud and climbs into her white F-150, shifts into drive, and nearly speeds in the direction of the damp smoke.

* * *

><p>A loud crash, boom, clank, sparks. An annoying and distracting ringing in his ears.<p>

"Systems critical."

A female voice says calmly.

"Core meltdown imminent"

The voice is somehow calmer than before.

"Evacuation advised"

The computerized voice repeats.

He can't hear it all to well, a darkness crowding into the edges of his vision. The fight or flight response pumping adrenaline from his adrenal gland is among the only things keeping him moving. He braces himself against the railing as another jolt shakes the ship.

Boom, spark, clang, run, run, run...

"Systems critical."

Can't, cant' hear, boom, rattling, black, black, blackness, dark, so dark, muscles pumping, moving, vision narrow, hot, hot, hot, boom, cling, crash, metal, glass, shards, sharp, green, green, move, run, run, run...

"Core meltdown imminent"

"Shields down to zero percent"

"Life support failing."

He would never admit to the fear he feels now, the dread, the utter terror. He breathes heavily with each movement. The pain numb and sever all at the same time.

"Systems critical."

He can barely breath, his head is dizzy, his tunnel vision narrows even further.

"Evacuation advised."

He barely climbs into a cylindrical metal container.

"Systems critical."

He drifts against the edges of consciousness, his fingers tracing against a large red lever before grasping onto it and pulling hard with all of his remaining strength.

"Pod detaching."

Darkness envelopes everything.

* * *

><p>The heater in the car is turned up full blast as the tires struggle in the mud to push her forward. She parks the car at the edge of a shallow crater. The first thing she notices are all the broken branches lined up above her, then when her eyes focus through the rain she sees the tattered cloth slightly hanging in the trees. Rope hangs down from the parachute and she follows their length to the center of the shallow hole filled with mixed up foliage. She rushes in awe to the metal capsule at the end of the thick strings. Her hands move around on the metal, part of her wondering if it was some sort of return shuttle from the ISS, though she doubts the likeliness from the unfamiliar design. But she still fumbles around for a way to open the obviously hollow capsule. The heavy rain blurs her field of vision and she shivers ruffly from the frozen rain.<p>

A sense of urgency she really doesn't understand overwhelms her and her fingers, numb from the cold, hit a sweet spot in the metal and a button is hesitantly pushed. The coffin like lid opens reluctantly, a steady buzzing sound evident throughout the process. When it opens the warmth held inside quickly dissipates and the rain hits the body of a once dry unconscious man. She leans in over him and calmly checks to see if he is breathing; which he is. She places her hand over his neck and feels his very rapid heart rate. At first she doesn't know what to make of him, she just takes in his appearance.

He's very tall and slightly lanky like his body mass has never really grasped the concept of his sever height. His skin is pale with a tint of green that increases with the cold. Dark emerald bruises cover his body and gashes surround him, still fresh, still oozing jade liquid. She notes the pointed ears and black up-tilted eyebrows.

She takes this all in quickly and decides that whether or not she was calling for an ambulance, which by the way he looks she doesn't think she should, she would need to take him to her ranch, where the only phone for miles exists. She quickly calculates how she will move him after first checking his neck for injuries, though she has little confidence with her ability to detect anything important. She opens the back door to her truck and with great difficulty maneuvers his body to lie down in the backseat. She closes the door and steps into the drivers side. The cabin is still a little warm from earlier and she turns on the windshield wipers before turning back to the man and placing her hand on his neck again to feel his rapid heart-rate. He's almost frozen underneath her fingers and she quickly blasts the heat after cursing. She puts the car in reverse and backs up enough to turn around, which she does, and she speeds to the house.

She stops right in front of the door. She runs inside without him and takes the stairs to the basement two at a time. She grabs the flashlight from the post at the bottom. She flips it on and points around until she finds her grandmothers old wheelchair. She untangles it from the clutter and climbs back up the stairs. When she reaches the landing she unfolds it and pushes the old heavy contraption out the door. She holds the chair outside the car door and pulls the sleeping man into it. He has warmed up a bit from the car ride and she wheels him inside before he loses any of the heat.

She has a small spare bedroom on the first floor and she takes him into it. She pulls down the blanket and places him into the bed. His clothing is soaked and his body temperature continues to lower in response. She strips him of his jump suit and leaves him in his boxers, taking off his undershirt. She runs to the closet and takes out a towel. She dries him off and grabs a pair of her grandfathers old pajamas from the basement and places it on him. She takes the heating blanket, the one she saves for the dead of winter, and tucks him into it before plugging it into the wall. She tosses his clothing into the washing machine and grabs the first aid kit from the kitchen.

Because of her isolated residence, and the fact that she owns a ranch, the first aid kit in her kitchen, though not as filled as the one in the barn for the animals when they are wounded, is still really good. She decides against calling for an ambulance after all she has seen, she doesn't want to be responsible for an area 51 victim. So she uses her limited but still prevalent medical knowledge and takes the kit, a bowl of hot water, and a clean rag to the spare room.

She waits a few minutes to make sure pulling the blanket from him won't give him hypothermia. She places the bowl on the table and moves a light wooden chair next to the head of the bed. She sits back watching him breath and after the minutes have ticked away she starts working on his face. The gashes aren't deep here but green liquid still surrounds his face. She washes off his head to the best of her ability before disinfecting the cuts and abrasions with peroxide, she rubs on some neosporin and places bandages over them. After checking to make sure his skin is warm enough she pulls downs the blanket and does the same to the rest of him, pulling out shards of glass and metal along the way. When she finishes she tucks him back in and washes up from the second rate medical treatment. She takes a hot shower but finds herself restless. She falls asleep in the chair next to him.

* * *

><p>Chains loudly fall to her feet from a high up shelf in the basement. She picks them up and along with some other tools places then in the back of her pickup.<p>

It's a little difficult finding the place where she found him, but she manages and by noon she has his pod placed to the side in the barn. After checking on him and finding his still sleeping form she returns to the barn. She grabs a shovel and for the first time this season is thankful for the heavy rain saturating the inside of the barn. She moves the hay from its usual place and starts digging in the spot.

She has a way of doing very difficult things when she wants to; maybe its because of her self reliance, because of how long she has been alone, taking care of herself, relying on her own strength, the plant the potatoes or starve to death mentality. So after a few days she has the pod buried deep beneath the stack of hay.

And he still hasn't woken up.

**Disclaimer: Thank you for reading this far. Please leave a review with what you thought and what you want to see next. I eagerly await any feedback:)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Thank you everyone who reviewed, remember that I'm open to suggestions so if there is something you want to see please leave a review about it and I'll keep it in mind for future chapters.**

**Chapter 2: Awakening:**

Before he opens his eyes he takes note of himself. His body hurts, his head aches, points all over his body sting. The adrenaline that had kept his wounds numb had long ago flushed from his body so he uses meditation to lower the pain levels. But first he finishes assessing his situation. He knows he is no longer in the metal container that had very little padding. Wherever he is is soft, warm, and comfortable. His skin is dry and he is not wearing the clothing he was previously dressed in. He analyses the likelihood that he is in a Vulcan hospital; 58% chance after noting the softness of the bed and the lack of speaking off in the distance. He reaches out and feels the length of the bed, his feet threatening to spill off of the edges; 48%.

He slowly opens his eyes, taking deep breathes. The room is bright and his head turns and looks out of a window; the greenery indicative of worlds not his own. The air is moist, humid from a recent rain-shower, and cold. He notes the warmth surrounding himself as coming from the light brown blanket tucked around his body.

He sits up and turns to the left and notes that his mouth is dryer than he is used to. His body is adept at conserving water and a dry mouth, one of the first signs of dehydration, tells him that he has not consumed water in quite some time, meaning that he had been unconscious for at the least of an entire day and night cycle. He absentmindedly wonders at how long exactly he had been here, and why. Why is he in this room that is so obviously not a hospital room, and after remembering that the closest planetary body in his sector that contained intelligent life was Terran, not a laboratory or dissection chamber. No government officials where in sight and the technology in the room was far from what he understood to be the capabilities of modern Terrans.

He turns his body some more and notices a pitcher and glass of water on a side table. He picks up the pitcher and examines it for a moment deciding the water is relatively safe; 36%. If someone here was planning to poison him then it is logical that killing his would be abundantly possible. He pours the water into the glass and takes a reluctant sip before downing the liquid.

He slowly places the glass on the table, careful to not make any noise, but when he hears the creak of the door opening he sits ruler straight. The door opens slowly at first as she sticks her head in to check on him and then all at once when she sees that he's awake. She smiles widely in the entrance before pulling out the chair next to him and sitting down.

"So your finally awake."

He doesn't respond, just stares at her.

"I'm Abigail."

No response.

"You can't understand me, can you?" she says slowly and with the look on his face and his silence, she sighs. "I thought as much." she looks slightly disappointed and turns to her right. She pours him a glass of water, noting the moistness inside, and holds the glass to him. He takes it from her and holds it in his lap. They sit there silently studying each other. After a moment she stands up and opens the closet door.

"I don't have too much clothing that would fit you" she starts as a way to fill the silence, "my grandfather was a tall man, but not as tall as you." she rummages through the clothing. "You've been in those clothes for a while" she picks out an outfit and turns to him. "Here, you can change into these" she puts the outfit on the bed and opens the door. "Then we can figure out what you can eat" she closes the door behind her.

* * *

><p>She sits at the kitchen table and waits for him to walk out. He takes a few minutes and enters the room in his new outfit. She stands up and ushers him to sit down, which he reluctantly does. He sits ramrod straight and watches her as she pulls food from her cupboard and fridge and places then on the table in front of him.<p>

"I don't know what you eat, but maybe you have an idea, so take your pick." He doesn't respond to her so she tries to break the language barrier by gesturing from the food to her mouth and then from the food to his mouth. He scans the selection before taking a fork from beside his plate and impales an apple before putting it on his plate. He examines it for a moment before using the butter-knife to slice it up before putting it into his mouth. She smiles when he does. She silently watches him until he finishes and when he makes no move to take any other food, she cleans up the table and puts the dishes in the dishwasher. She sits down next to him.

She seems to remember something from studying his face and stands up. She walks further into the kitchen and takes the first aid kit from the top cabinet and places it in front of him. She places her chair closer to him and sits down opening the kit. "I need to change the bandages" she tries to explain to him and is slightly surprised that he doesn't move away from her when she moves to remove the bandage.

"Your healing fast" she says quietly as she puts neosporin on the narrowing wounds and places another clean bandage over them. She awkwardly unbuttons his shirt, remembering that the most serious gashes were there, and repeats the process quickly and allows him to fix his shirt. He doesn't look embarrassed and continues sitting calmly the entire time. She cleans up the kit and places it back in its cabinet before moving the chair back and sitting down.

"You know after all this I should really know what to call you." She looks at him and smiles. She thinks about Tarzan and points at herself "Abigail" she says very quickly. She points at him, but he remains silent. She repeats the process and in return he opens his mouth and says "Saren."

"Saren" she tests the word aloud and smiles further. He looks more alert when she says the name.

"Abigail" he says slowly and she giggles in response.

"I guess if you're going to learn this language there is no better time to start than now." She spends the rest of the day pointing at things, saying their names, and waiting for him to repeat them. He catches on much quicker than she anticipates and when she quizzes him at the end of the day he receives a "B." She didn't expect this much progress and pulls out a pair of pajamas and hands them to him before going to bed.

* * *

><p>She is climbing up a ladder as the sun starts to rise. She hears some of the roasters crying out and reminds herself to collect the hen's eggs when she is finished. She places the rest of her material on the roof and curses when a hammer falls through a medium sized hole and lands in the mud of the barn. She descend the ladder and as a second thought decides to take the animal's out of the barn before starting on the roof. She opens the large doors and ushers them all out before taking the hammer and climbing back up to the roof.<p>

"Abigail!" she hears as she starts hammering wood over a particularly large hole. She places the tools down gently and looks over the edge of the roof. She finds Saren standing next to the ladder. "What is do?" He asks and she remembers that she used very little verbs and their tenses in her lesson yesterday, she mostly focused on objects.

She holds a hammer above him and yells, showing different objects and movements as she does so, "I'm hammering wood over holes to protect the barn against rain." He nods, mostly understanding.

He starts climbing up the ladder and in response to her questioning look says "help?" She starts to say no but then thinks about all the work and then the opportunity for a lesson.

"Okay" she says reluctantly and lets him climb up. He stands up unafraid and walks over to her. She explains/shows him everything she is doing and he is soon patching up holes. She tries to carry on a conversation with him as a way to teach him how to better structure sentences as well as a way to get to know him.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"Done what?"

"Patching up holes" she says gesturing to what they are doing.

"No" he says simply.

"You're quite good at it."

"At what?" he asks.

"Patching up holes."

"Thank you." He doesn't miss a step in the process.

"How did you sleep?" She makes the gesture for sleeping when he raises an eyebrow.

"Adequately." She nods, uncertain of where he picked up the word, then she remembers that she taught him how to work the TV before bed and figures he must have watched some this morning before going to find her. He seems to remember something and asks "how did you sleep?"

"Adequately" she mimics with a smile. She watches his productivity "can I trust you up here? I have other chores that I need to finish this morning."

He takes a moment to process exactly what she said and replies "yes" not lifting his eyes from his work.

"Don't fall through the roof" she says as she climbs down the ladder and she misses him again arching an eyebrow.

* * *

><p>First she collects the eggs from the coup and places them in the fridge, usually this is the first thing she does every morning but she didn't know how long the weather would stay dry and she needs to get the barn fixed during the break.<p>

She takes the clothing off the line and folds them up. She takes his old jumpsuit through the sewing machine before placing it in the spare room dresser along with some of her grandfathers clothes that would fit him. Their isn't much that would fit and she decides that the next time she goes into town she'll take him along and get him some clothes at the old big and tall store. After she decides that the barn is good enough for tools to not drop on her head she goes in and shovels up the animal droppings and placing new hay into the stalls.

She finishes around noon and wipes the sweat from her brow as she stands up all of the way. She can still hear Saren working so she goes into the kitchen to prepare lunch. From what she has figured out the man on the roof doesn't eat meat, she doesn't eat much herself. She relies mostly on what she herself produces on the ranch and when she has to take an old animal to the slaughter house, she sells the meat. She does go into town every month for supplies and to sell some things, so she does have some spam and little wienies in the cupboard but she has never had much of a taste for meat.

She does a last minute check on the eggs before placing them into a carton. She makes peanut butter and honey sandwiches from the bread she made the other day and the honey she collected last fall, she notes that she has to collect more this season. She pours out two glasses of orange juice as Saren walks in though the kitchen entrance.

"I finished the roof" he says blankly.

"Sit down" she gestures and places the food on the table. She grabs a knife and fork for him before she sits down and starts on her food.

"Thank you" he says and she smiles when he starts cutting his food slowly.

**Disclaimer: Thank you for reading this far, please a review with what you thought and what you want to see next.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, Please leave a review with what you think and what you want to see next. With college permitting I will post a new chapter every Sunday, the more suggestions I receive the more consistent I will be able to stay.**

**Chapter Three: Resistance is Futile, Assimilation is Inevitable:**

She is surprised by how soon he has seemingly mastered the language and she is even more surprised by how quickly he has healed. They sit across from each other in the small den one night and she decides to have a serious conversation that she has been putting off until he could articulate himself better.

"Is it okay," she starts "if we talk about your situation?"

"It would be logical for you to have questions."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes" he says after mulling over the consequences of the answer. He decides that after all she has done for him and how he is dependent and indebted to her that it is logical for him to tell her what he can.

She takes a moment to ask the first question. "How did you get here? To this planet I mean."

"I was on my ship, passing through this system. The ship was very old. The sensors malfunctioned and a cloud of meteorites were not detected in time. They struck the ship, creating a large amount of damage. Important systems failed and it was logical for me to evacuate. After I boarded and detached the evacuation pod I was rendered unconscious from injuries sustained and the prolonged lack of oxygen. When I awoke I was laying in the bed in your spare bedroom." He says everything matter-of-factly with no snippet of emotion.

She doesn't respond, just looks at him with her eyebrows knitted together. "Is there a way to alert your people? Tell them you are here?"

"No" he says simply. "Even if I could it would be too risky."

"Why is that?"

"It is not the way of my people to make contact with a civilization until they develop warp capabilities. It is illogical to influence a young cultures development."

"Okay" she doesn't really know what else to say in response. She watches the cat jump onto his lap. "What are you going to do?"

He is silent for a moment, staring at his hands, the cat nuzzles his head into his hand until Saren opens up his palm and pets the animal. He comes close to sighing but resists. He closes his eyes trying to figure out how to respond. The cat's purr reverberates in the small room.

"It's okay, you can figure this out later." She watches him slowly lift his head. "In the meantime you are welcome to stay here."

"Thank you." She smiles and after a few seconds he adds "I will not be a burden to you, I will earn my stay."

"If that makes you feel better, then okay."

"It is logical."

* * *

><p>The days of the month tick by and she teaches him the ropes around the ranch. He does everything that he is capable of and his productivity soon reaches her own. Abigail finds herself enjoying living with the man and formulates plans to help him stay on the planet more securely.<p>

"You'll need an identity" she says a few nights before her monthly town trip arrives. "You can get by here for a while without one, but in this day and age an identity is important."

"A logical assumption, but how would I go about getting an identity?" He asks not taking his eyes from the fire he is lighting in the small fireplace.

"I know a guy" she says as he pokes at the wood with the metal rod. She watches him sit down across from her. "He was in the same high school class as me, he just made fake id's for underage drinking, but I hear that he's still doing it." She sighs and shakes her head slowly "of course he's not capable of what we need but I'm sure he knows someone. I think he still works at the same place, so we'll go to see him when we go into town."

"Are you sure it is wise for me to go with you?" He asks gesturing to his appearance.

"Don't worry, I have a plan."

* * *

><p>She goes through her list one last time before putting it into her rarely used purse. "Saren" she calls out and she waits until he walks into the kitchen. "Here" he looks at the object she is holding out before taking it from her.<p>

"Is this your plan?" He says sceptically, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, now put it on" he does and she moves closer to him. She reaches up and traces her fingers over the rim of the hat. "If you get close to anyone pull this down" she tugs downwards and his eyebrows are covered. She grins as she pats him on the cheek before moving away from him "now you are a bonafide cowboy."

He stiffens up from the gesture, she notices and frowns a little. "Lets finish loading up and we can go." She puts her purse around her shoulder and grabs a heavy crate. He grabs the last one and follows her out the door.

The truck is loaded with wooden crates and they climb into the cabin. She turns on the heater for him before shifting into drive and pushing the car forward. "Remind me to teach you how to drive."

"I will remind you in the future." She smiles and turns on the radio. He spends the rest of the drive with his brows knitted together staring at the noise making machine. She smiles a little wider every time she looks over at him.

* * *

><p>They unload the crates at the local farmers market. A man comes out and hands Abigail a check before calling out a few workers and taking the wooden boxes into the store. She has Saren sitting in the truck for the entire exchange. She climbs in the cabin and shifts into drive. She goes through the drive-thu for the bank, showing Saren as she does how to deposit a check with an ATM. Saren watches her carefully and she wonders whether or not he is taking detailed mental notes. She half smiles wondering if they're Cornell notes.<p>

It takes a few hours to get everything from Costco and Saren helps her load up the last sack of animal feed before climbing into the truck. "Okay" she looks hesitant while taking out a sheet of paper from her purse. She looks at the paper "he works at the FedEx a few blocks from here." Saren looks straight ahead and watches a small snow flake slowly fall on the windshield. "It'll be fine, he knows how to keep things on the down-low, he won't go telling anyone." She turns the key slowly and backs out of the parking space.

She glances over at Saren before climbing out of the car "come on" she says before he starts to move. He follows her into the store. She walks up to the counter. The entire store it deserted except for an elderly woman on a computer in the front of the store. She rings the bell on the counter and waits for her guy to come out.

"Hey you" he says when he sees her and says with a cocky grin "What can I do for you?"

She leans over the counter and says in a quiet voice "I was wondering if you can refer me to someone."

"That depends on what you're looking for" he leans in a little bit and lowers his voice when he notices the old lady. "Drugs, coke, weed, illegal guns..?" She doesn't really believe he knows too many people in these businesses.

"I need someone who can create a new identity, the full deal."

"For that guy" he gestures to Saren.

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not, and yeah I know a guy. He lives another state over though. It'll take some time for you to get everything."

"That's okay, I have time." she pauses. " How do I go about contacting this person."

He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contact list. He takes a blank sheet of paper and a pen from the counter and copies down the information. "It won't be cheap." He slides the paper to her.

"That's fine." she folds up the paper and precedes to stick in into her old purse. "Thank you." She turns away quickly and follows Saren out the double glass door. Saren suppresses a shiver as they walk out into the cold air.

* * *

><p>"You don't have to do this for me."<p>

"Stop saying that. I already said its okay." She holds the kitchen phone up to her ear. She waits for the other end to pick up. "Hello, I was calling to" she goes quiet for a moment "yeah" another moment passes "everything" she listens to the phone for a moment before writing something on the notepad she had in her hand. "That sounds great. Thank you." She puts the phone on the hook and walks into the living room. Saren follows her.

"We need to take a picture of you and send it to him."

"That's it?"

"For now it is." She walks over to the closet and takes her digital camera from the top shelf. " We should do this in the kitchen, there's more light." She follows him into the room and puts the camera on the table. "Sit" she orders and he takes a seat. She moves a chair close to him and sits down. He stiffens up when she reaches her hand out and adjusts his hair. His hair has grown a bit from his time here and with some adjustments she can move it to cover his ears and the pointed parts of his eyebrows. She does so and his body relaxes a bit when she moves back from him.

She takes the camera and positions it in front of him. "Say cheese."

"Why do I need to say that?" She can tell he is raising an eyebrow and that makes her smile widely.

"It's tradition" she starts to explain "just say it!"

"Cheese" he says dully and she snaps the picture laughing slightly.

She puts the camera down and tries not to giggle at his now blinking eyes. "Was that necessary?"

"No," she tries to school her features "but I forgot to turn it off."

"That is apparent." She can't stop the stupid grin from forming on her lips. She hides it by turning away and grabbing her laptop from the kitchen counter. After fishing a cord from the bottom of a drawer she starts the computer and plugs the camera into it.

After she downloads the picture and attaches it to an email she grabs the notepad from by the phone and types in the email address. She presses send and sits back in her chair, looking out the window. The snow starts to fall and she watches Saren watch it with an interested look in his eyes. She smiles softly before looking away. The cat slides his face across her shin and she picks him up. He curls up on her lap and Saren looks over at the cat as he starts to purr loudly.

Saren turns again to the window and watches snow glistening from the porch light. He stands up and almost walks to the window. "Goodnight" he says and leaves the room.

"Goodnight" Abigail says quietly into the fur of her tabby.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: Thank you everyone who has read this far. If your enjoying this story so far please leave me a little review telling me so, same goes for if there's anything in particular that you want to see next.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I update every Sunday. Please leave a comment with what you think and what you want to see next.**

**Chapter 4: Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty...**

"Why don't you just accept my help?" She says under her breath. They are sitting at the kitchen table, the cat circling around Saren's feet.

"I believe it is apparent that I am doing so" he says calmly. She crosses her arms.

"That's not what I mean exactly."

"What do you mean?" He looks at her, a slightly bored expression on his face. She closes her eyes slowly and breathes in deeply.

"I mean" she pauses and tries to figure out how to say what she needs to say. "You act like I'm only helping you because it fits some sort of logic. I help you, you help me. I scratch your back you scratch my back." He raises an eyebrow at the expression. "Have you thought for maybe one second that I'm helping you because I want to?"

"What do you mean?" He tilts his head slightly.

"Don't you think maybe I just like having you here?" He doesn't answer that. She closes her mouth and looks down. She stands up and makes her way to the chicken coup. He takes a second longer than he usually does to head over to the barn.

* * *

><p>She finds him unconscious in the snow. A broken potted plant is shattered around him. The pale orange a contrast in the snow. She doesn't know how long he had been there but when she kneels down next to him to check his breathing under the thick sweater, he is frozen under the palm of her hand. A large part of his forehead is turning green and swelling. She looks up to the second story window and sees her orange tabby, napping away where her cyclamens once where. She looks at the man and noticed that his breathing was slower than usual, his heartbeat the same speed as her own, well not her heartbeat now. Her heartbeat now is the same speed as his usually is.<p>

She somehow manages to shake him slightly awake. His mind is slow and blurry. "I can't get you inside by myself" she says and somehow manages to pull him to his feet. He towers over her own tall frame, but she supports him all the same and slowly walks the man into his room. He falls unconscious almost immediately after she has deposited him under the covers. She drops her jacket on the floor and plugs the heating blanket into the wall before draping it over him.

He is still so cold under her fingers. She pulls the sweater from his body so the warmth will arrive at his skin faster. She half wishes that she could take him to a hospital, wondering if she should wake him up. But then she thinks hypothermia right now is more of a danger than a concussion. She takes off his snow boot, tucking the blanket under his feet. She sits on the bed and kicks her shoes off and climbs under the covers next to him. She wraps herself over his icicle body like a serpent. She holds onto him tightly and falls asleep after his temperature had risen just enough for her anxiety to drop just the slightest.

* * *

><p>His eyes move behind his eyelids.<p>

On Vulcan he had the equivalent of a fiance. She was logical, intelligent, and aesthetically pleasing. He was bonded to her when they were both six years old, which is customary. It was a customary relationship. They talked customarily, they touched fingers customarily, they promised to bond with one another as was according to custom. It was all very logical.

He explained the logic of learning to pilot a small spacecraft after they both became scientists. She had a challenging job on Vulcan and it would be illogical, she explained, for her to join him in his career choice. But she agreed with his logic that he should fly away on his ship and study the stars. In a few years, he thinks, it will be logical for her to assume his death and bond with another, as was customary.

There was no way for him to return to Vulcan, so it was logical to accept this. It was illogical to think about her, to think about Vulcan, he is here now. When did he stop thinking about her? He is uncertain to the next logical step. Her arm stretch in her sleep and her hand lands over the back of his wrist.

He is suddenly overcome with a sense of loneliness. An image of a little girl dressed in white with her face buried into her hands popped into his head. He didn't understand why.

* * *

><p>When Abigail was nine years old she was this tiny little thing. Her curly blonde hair framed her pale face. Her cheeks were always red when she smiled and laughed. When Abigail was nine years old she always smiled.<p>

One night she was half falling asleep in the back seat of the car. The radio was low and she glanced from the window to the book sitting open in her lap. Charlotte's Web by E.B. White. When she was nine years old she read books about pigs and magical spiders.

Her windows were down halfway and the cold night air felt good on her tired skin. Her mother looked back from her seat and smiled at her, Abigail smiled back and giggled as her mother made a silly face. She was a small girl so when she was nine years old she sat in a car seat in the middle of the back seat.

Her father was driving the car that night. Maybe he was tired that night, maybe he was distracted as his favorite song came on the radio, maybe... But whatever it was his reaction was far too slow when a large black truck veered out of its lane. The light was almost blinding and then everything was black for only a moment.

When she was older they told her that they died instantly. She didn't tell them that she still remembers the sound of her mom weeping, crying out her fathers name. "Mommy" she finally said but she didn't hear a response. It was all so quiet, all except for the song still playing very low in the background.

At first she lived in a small foster home, the family as small as the house. The father worked long hours and the mother baked apple pie on Sundays. When Abigail was ten years old she didn't smile.

After three years she was sent to live with a family a few counties away. The father worked late and the mother drank late. The brother was odd and the sister pulled her hair. When Abigail was thirteen years old she didn't read books about pigs and magical spiders. She stayed with them for two years. The mother, in a drunken rage, slapped her hard across the face and threw her into the glass case of good china. When Abigail was fifteen years old she didn't fight back. When the father came home he dropped her off at the hospital with a note pinned to her shirt and an "I'm sorry." When Abigail was fifteen years old she had no one.

She knew from early childhood memories that she had grandparents a few states over. When the social worker walked into her hospital room she asked him about them. When Abigail was fifteen years old someone listened, someone looked into it.

About a month later she was moving into her grandparents ranch. Her grandmother cried and her grandfather enveloped her into a burly hug. He smelled like mint soap.

She loved her grandparents very much and lived in the room that belongs to Saren now. One day she emerged from the room and found her grandmother coughing up blood into the kitchen sink, she asked her not to tell her grandfather "he worries too much." It took her too long to convince her to see a doctor. She had cancer and soon she was in the same wheelchair that is now sitting in the basement.

Surprisingly the person who died from cancer first was her grandfather. Her grandmother passed away within a year. Abigail thought it was almost poetic. When Abigail was twenty-six years old she always smiled.

* * *

><p>Saren wakes up first. His head was turned so when he opens his eyes he is looking out the window. The sky is dark and cloudy, but the clouds have cleared up enough for him to see a sliver of a silver moon hanging low in the sky. He doesn't understand why he is feeling anxiety rising up into his chest until he looks over and finds Abigail face nuzzled into his neck. She is warm over his skin and he doesn't search for the logic in moving. He is uncertain to how long he lays there. But the anxiety is growing as she starts to move and her breathing becomes less deep.<p>

His body stiffens when she finally opens her eyes. She sits up slowly and looks over him. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat and she frowns as she moves her fingers over his head. She leans over and her hair tickles his face as she inspects the bump on his head. His skin is hot under her fingers. He is unaware that he is holding his breathe.

The anxiety starts to leave his chest as she pats his cheek and takes her body away from his. "That was a close call" she says and looks over him once more before standing up. She grabs her boots from the floor and drapes her jacket over her shoulder. Saren watches every movement.

She walks out of his room and pretty soon he can make out the sound of her walking up the stairs. He sits up in the bed and lets out an unsteady breath. He spends the rest of the night meditating.

Abigail spends the night reading an old torn up book, suddenly unable to sleep.

* * *

><p>The next day Abigail gets a call from her guy's guy. He tells her how to pay the bill and when to expect her package. She logs onto her computer and wires the money.<p>

Saren walks into the kitchen with a basket full of chicken eggs. "Good morning" he says in greeting and places the eggs into a carton. She watches him before closing her laptop and declaring breakfast ready. He stacks the dishes on the table as she places the food in the center on a mat. "Thank you" he says as he stacks his plate full of food. Abigail smiles at the portion.

She stabs an egg with her fork and looks down at her plate. "Everything will arrive in two month."

Saren pauses his fork in mid air and looks at her. "Okay" he says before returning his attention to his food. He slices a piece of toast into small pieces before picking up a piece with his fork and sticking it in his mouth. He looks up and finds her staring out the window. "I'm sorry."

She looks at him "what?"

"I apologize." His voice is quiet but still loud enough for her to hear.

"Why?"

"Yesterday I was not careful. It is illogical to stand too long under a windowsill that contains a potted plant and that an animal occasionally visits."

"It's okay, I wouldn't expect you to think about it. It's not your fault."

"I caused you worry."

She turns her gaze back to the window. She doesn't speak for a long time. When she does she is looking down at her plate, scooping an egg onto her fork. "It's okay" she says softly before placing the food into her mouth. She says it so quietly that she doubts that he would have been able to hear her if he was human. He nods his head once, finishing his food at an "appropriate speed" before clearing his dishes from the table and heading to the bright red barn.

She lets out a long breath and watches him struggle to walk in the snow. When he almost falls a small smile forms at her lips, when he does fall the smile grows and when he stands up and brushes himself off she laughs unashamedly. An orange ball of fur jumps onto her lap and with his front paws on the table, licks at her scrambled eggs.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: Thank you for reading this far. Please leave a little comment with what you thought about the chapter and what you want to see next. And also what would you like Saren's fake identity name to be?<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I update every Sunday with college permitting. Please leave a review with what you thought and what you want to see next. I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while; school got hectic but I just finished finals and I have a month before school starts again, but I'll be taking 5 classes then so I'll have to see how I can handle that.**

Chapter 5: A Moment

The room is dark as the sun finishes crossing over the horizon. Abigail lights the fire with a long red lighter. She stands up when she finishes and arches her back, her hands rubbing at a sore spot, and her neck rotating in a long circle. Saren watches the movement and arches an eyebrow when she grimaces as she sits down. Saren resists the urge to reach his hand out and try to ease her pain. In his culture it is rude to touch someone without first asking so he finds himself inclined to rest his hands folded on his lap, he tries to resist the urge to look at her.

She twists her torso around and he can hear a distinguished pop, she clasps her hands above her and makes a C shape, her breasts becoming more prominent from the movement, before lowering her hands and pulling her chin to the left and right in a painful looking movement. She rolls her shoulders forward and back for about the fifth time before he actually says something.

"Vulcan neuropressure is a mental and physical technique for relaxing the mind and muscles" he says very matter-of-factly. Abigail doesn't take note of his words and makes the C shape again. Saren stands from his chair and sits beside her on the couch. She watches him out of the corner of her eyes as he lifts his hand up and inclines it toward her. "If you would allow me.." he trails off and she lowers her arms.

"Okay" she all but mouths and Saren takes hold of her shoulders and moves her body to face away from him. He presses his fingers along a vertebra and out of surprise of how good it feels she finds herself unable to suppress a moan. If she had been facing him she would have noticed a slight green tint to his ears. Neither of them say anything and she does her best to stay on top of every noise as he moves his hands gingerly down her spine.

It's not like she has ever moaned during a massage before, which shows just how good this feels, his hands skimming and his fingers pressing down gently and firmly on all of the correct points, making her wonder how similar the Vulcan body must be to a humans, makes her wonder how many things between their physiology and culture are similar. Abigail is one of those people who have never felt like a massage is an intimate act, but now she is feeling extremely awkward and vulnerable, like her entire self is laid bare in front of him and his masterful hands hold all of the control over her. She suppresses another moan.

She feels the aches and pains slowly slip away as she finds herself to be putty in his hands. She resist the urge to turn around and look at him, she resists the urge to press herself further into his touch. His fingers seemed to linger just a moment too long before they separate from her body. She turns around to look at him, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, though his eyes are defiantly away from hers, and she notices him sigh in that way that isn't exactly sighing and she knows he would adamantly deny if she brought it up.

She looks away quickly before turning her eyes to him again and painting a sweet smile on her face. "Thank you" she says gratefully.

"It is of no consequence" he says in that way he does, using the sophisticated words that he had learned from skimming the English dictionary that she keeps on the top shelf of her slender bookshelf. He smiles in that way that isn't quiet smiling and looks at her with a quizzical face that isn't quite quizzical. She studies him in return.

He looks a little more green than usual. The heat that is radiating off of his body is a little more hot and for a moment Abigail considers putting out the fire sitting upon the brick and mortar, but she dismisses this thought. His shoulders are stiff and he seems to be sitting just a little more stiffly and straight than usual. His shoulder are broad and the cat is now moving on the back of the couch and his front paws are testing his shoulders, stepping atop them slowly. Saren doesn't seem to notice. He walks a little too forward and tumbles down his chest and onto his lap. Saren doesn't seem to notice this either and the cat doesn't seem to care as he licks a paw with his sandpaper tongue before pawing at Sarens flat stomach. Sarens eyes do not waver from her. His gaze is intense and it almost scares her how afraid she is of losing this gaze. She doesn't know what to make of it. She closes her eyes again before daring to meet his eyes.

Its only when their eyes finally meet that he seem to notice what he's doing, but he doesn't look away immediately. His eyes seemed to be saying something, something neither of them understand and both of them are afraid to say out loud. He lingers for a moment and turns his face downwards. She follows his eyes and watches the cat kneed his thigh. Abigail almost laughs and reaches her hand out and scratches the cats chin, he purrs loudly in return. She wonders absentmindedly if Vulcans can purr. She gets caught up in the cat and when she realizes how close to him she is she starts to pull her hand back. But then she is mesmerized by the warm strength surrounding the appendage and she looks down and sees Saren's large hand covering her own, making it look far more delicate.

She looks up and their eyes meet again. He had never looked at her so serious before, so intensely, his eyes wash over her in waves and she forgets to breathe for a moment. She would never quite understand how intimate this is to a Vulcan, how close this is to a Vulcan kiss as three of his fingers fold inward and he trails the other two down her forearm and her wrist, almost stopping over her pulse point. Their eyes only separate for a moment as hers drop to his lips before returning steadily to his eyes. Her lips part slightly on their own accord and she looks dazed, almost hypnotized. She's not even aware of time, though she is sure that he could calculate the very second.

She notices absentmindedly how close they have gotten, she can feel his breathe tickling her nose, it smelled minty because he had brushed his teeth just after their early dinner had ended. Very early dinner actually, but they couldn't help it when the sun sets so early this time of year. She almost breaks this distance, her mind going blank, unaware of any consequences or doubts, she really almost does. But despite the secluded place where they live, despite how dark it is outside (though its only about 6pm), despite all sense a loud knock on the door erupts the room with realization and she falls back away from him, stands up quickly, smooths out her jeans, and orders Saren to hide in his room as she answers the door.

FedEx, of course it was FedEx. How many moments does FedEx interrupt delivering an illegal package? She signs her name on the electronic tablet before taking the small box into her arms. She hugs it limply to her body and remains unmoving from the spot until the man in the dark brown uniform steps into his equally brown truck and drives it past her view. She steps into the house and closes the door behind her.

"He's gone" Abigail calls out but Saren doesn't emerge from the room until she has the package on the kitchen table and is fishing a small long knife out of a drawer. He stands in the doorway and watches her run the blade through the thick tannish tape. She pulls apart the flaps and pulls out the contents of the box, laying them out in a neat row on the table. She goes through a checklist of whats in front of her. "Birth certificate, baby foot print, shot records, social security card, drivers license, state id, and passport." she says everything slowly, examining each item until satisfaction before stating its existence. "Well sir you now have an identity, Mr. Samuel Cameron Saren" she reads from the passport before looking up at him and smiling a whimsical smile. She drops her gaze and places the item back on the table in its place before moving away and letting Saren examine everything for himself. A quietness hovers over the room as Saren's fingers trace over the paper.

"It looks authentic to me" she says somewhere behind him, "though I wouldn't push my luck." She can almost feel him arching an eyebrow "Just don't rely on it too much, this is for emergencies." She looks at his back for a moment and he stands up a little straighter. "I'll leave it to you" she says from somewhere far off and leaves for her room. Saren almost turns around, almost clears his throat, almost calls out to her, but that would be too human, that wouldn't be acting solely on logic. So he continues his scrutiny, suddenly even less able to focus on his task. He gives up the effort after a few minutes and instead decides to meditate atop his bed, finding it necessary to clear his cluttered and illogical mind.

He sits on the thick mattress and crosses his legs. He folds his hands on his lap and closes his dark eyes. A deep humming sneaks through his lips from the deep recesses of his thoughts. An ancient Vulcan lullaby his mother would sing to him when he was young. When he was a very young child and he was leaning to meditate, learning how to control the emotions running deep in his veins, when he was ornery and a complete nightmare his mother would sing. He found it soothing and after the first three verses he would find his center and his mother would wipe the dried tears from his cheeks, he would resist the urge to smile or make other happy baby noises and would instead fall asleep on the meditation mats.

He hasn't even heard this song in a very long time but he now finds the tune bubbling to the surface of his chest out of necessity. He resists the urge to speak the words, worrying the direct thought to his mother would become too much. He settles on humming, the deep throaty noise reaching his ears and calming his mind better than any traditional meditation ever could. If he was human he would say that he is homesick, but he's not. But he still doesn't justify this, he is alone now and his humming is too low for even Abigail to hear a floor above him. He just let himself go to the extent that he is capable and for once doesn't analyze anything, his mind finally clears and he finds himself able to slip under his cover and into a deep dreamless slumber.

**Disclaimer: Thank you for reading this far, and again I'm sorry for the wait. If you want another chapter soon please leave a comment with what you thought and what you want to see next. I'm trying to get into a schedule in which I write a little every day, so for this month between semesters I should be able to update regularly. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I post every Sunday with school permitting. If you want to see anything in particular in this story please leave a review.**

**Chapter 6: Tis the Season**

Christmas. Abigail has never cared much for Christmas, her happiest ones being those with her grandparents and her worst wishing against hope for some semblance of that. But she makes the most of it. She always goes to the soup kitchen in town, which is attached firmly to the two story white church, and volunteers.

Her grandparents started this tradition after her father had moved away with her mother many years before. They always liked a big Christmas and they felt so lonely in their big rickety hut. Her Grandfather had come up with it, stating that there is a place were all of their love could be given. When Abigail came they offered to stay home and have a big feast, they even bought a nice big turkey at the store in town, but Abigail would have none of it, she didn't want to change something they loved so much.

She didn't have the same reasoning as them when they died, she had different reasons for going every year. Part of it was to remember them, part of it was because it was right, but a bigger part than she was ever willing to admit was because it was either that or spend the holiday here with her animals and the creaky floor boards. So every year she went into town with a box full of donations and a handful of five dollar bills.

"I have to go or else they will be suspicious" she tells his doubtful face. "And the first time people see you can't be when they visit the ranch with their kids over the summer." He doesn't say anything as she pulls a red hat from a box in the crowded closet. "Its perfect. This Santa hat can cover your ears and if for whatever reason it comes off we can say that they're prosthetics and your dressing up as an elf." He continues his silence and eyes the hat.

"What would the explanation be for me being here, living with you" he says calmly, his eyes glazing over her face.

"We'll say that you we're a drifter, we get a fair share of those out here, and I hired you as a ranch hand, people have been telling me to get one of those for years."

"Vulcans do not lie." this is not the first time he had said this in relation to one of her plans. She makes an exasperated face.

"But it's not a lie, it's just not the whole truth." He makes an exasperated expression without making one and sighs without sighing. "It's logical you see, we can't be too suspicious, and it's better now than later."

"Why exactly is that?"

"Because" she almost stops here but adds "it's Christmas" she smiles broadly placing the hat carefully atop his head, her finger brushing against his ears.

He looks distracted and makes that face again without making a face "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"You don't have to, you just need to know that it does." she steps back from him and smiles again, ready to laugh at how he looks. "Don't worry I'll wear one to."

"I am not worrying."

"Of course not" she says in a voice that she would use to appease a young child, Saren doesn't catch on. He doesn't argue and she half expects him to rip the hat from his head but he doesn't. Instead he takes a green hat from the mess and seems to consider returning the favor but instead hands it to her. "Thank you" she says smiling and puts on the elf hat.

"You are welcome" he says a little more then half-heartily and walks out the door to grab some firewood. Abigail walks into the kitchen.

She pulls off the hat, sets it on the counter, and opens the drawer. She takes out a crumpled up bag from the Christmas store and pulls out some packaging. She reads the directions a little too carefully before cutting it open with some scissors. The ears are cheap and hard plastic. They don't fit quite right and are a little too big. When she puts them on and looks into the little mirror on the wall she thinks she looks a little more than a little silly. She smiles at her reflection and hangs the hat on the coat rack.

She walks into the living room and finds Saren lighting the fire, the red hat sitting deflated on the coffee table. He straightens up when he hears her enter. He finishes poking at the flames and stands up. He looks at her, his eyes washing over her face, and when he sees her ears he can't keep himself from staring.

At first Abigail has a humorous smile, like she's coming in with a joke, but that smile drops when she notices how intently Saren is staring at her. He seems to cross the room in an instance, his eyes never leaving hers.

She's not sure he's even breathing, he is so still in front of her. He is standing so close that she has to angle her head up or else she would be looking into his chest. He doesn't move and neither does she. His eyes are dark.

"Saren?" she says breathlessly and he blinks slowly. He steps back and swallows.

"Umm" for once he is at a loss of words and sits down in the chair. He looks darkly into the fire. "You uh, you uh um..."

"The ears" she supplies unmoving from her spot. He swallows again, his spine unnecessarily straight.

"Yes, the ears" he doesn't say anything. His eyes study the brick under the charred logs.

Abigail smiles awkwardly and points behind her. "I was just trying them on for tomorrow, I'll just put them back in their case." She starts to turn around.

"No" Saren says a little too abruptly. Abigail turns back to him and stares at the back of his neck, which is a little more green than usual. Saren turns his head so that he can see her out of the corner of his eyes, he seems to regret this and turns back to the fire. His eyes are decidedly unadapt at focusing. "The ears suit you well" he says after deciding against many of the lies running through his mind.

"Are they?" She asks.

He looks at her quickly again, his eyes flashing over her before returning to the brick. "Yes" he says, his mouth feeling dry. She doesn't know what to say in response.

"Okay" she finally makes out and sits down on the couch.

* * *

><p>The steam is hot on her face and Saren stirs the giant pot of mashed potatoes. Abigail watches him a little too long and almost drops the cooked turkey before carving it up quickly and efficiently. She looks over at Saren again.<p>

His shoulders are lean and strong, his thick sweater clings to his chest. His eyes are light and they watch his own hands work carefully. The room is a cool gray with big kitchen appliances placed carefully in it. There are many people in the room, all of whom Abigail has known for a long time. They are friendly and each take their turn walking up to Saren and introducing themselves. He repeats the words that he had practiced with Abigail robotically and they smile in return at him. They then proceed to speak with Abigail and express there congratulations as well as state in there own words that he seems strange and to be careful.

She smiles and laughs each time and reminds them to get back to work. When they leave she absentmindedly finds her eyes tracing him again.

The red hat is attached firmly to his head with hair pins to prevent an accident. But as a cover Abigail has taken her own hat off a couple of times when people were looking and flashed everyone the ears. They all laughed because it was so her to do something like that. She returns her attention back to the turkey, not noticing Sarens own eyes on her.

He finishes the potatoes quickly and takes them out to the front before retuning into the kitchen.

The night pretty much drags on like this and when it's time to go Saren is across the room putting away the last dish.

"I'm glad you came" a tall blonde boy says to Abigail quietly. She smiles at him.

"Thank you, it was good seeing you Tom" she says as he helps her put on the jacket, his fingers brush against her neck.

"Be careful with that guy" Tom whispers a little closely to her ear.

"Oh him, he's harmless."

"He's a bit off."

"So am I, and I can take care of myself." Tom looks at Saren who is watching them carefully.

"Even so, if you ever need any help just give me a call." Saren starts to make his way to them.

"I will" Abigail promises and walks through the door with Saren by her side.

Tom follows and holds open the truck door for her, Sarens eyes narrow slightly as he climbs into the passenger side.

"Thank you" She says as she buckles her seat belt and watches Tom close the door. He leans on it for a moment and looks at her. "I'll see you later" she says and he takes a step back and lets her drive away.

Saren does something unlike himself and turns on the radio, then does something like himself and turns it to the classical music station. Abigail only smiles at the action and continues watching the road.

When Abigail pulls into the dirt driveway Saren hops out of the truck before she turns it off and walks at a quick pace into the house.

Abigail walks in and finds him meditating on his bed. "Saren?" He doesn't reply. "Are you ignoring me?"

"It is illogical to ignore someone" he says softly with his eyes still shut.

Abigail sighs "Then whats wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong."

"It is illogical to lie." He sighs without really sighing. She walks closer to his bed. He doesn't respond. She sits down.

He opens his eyes slowly and looks at her. His breathe seems to get stuck in his throat. She is still wearing the ears, they both had forgotten this. She is reminded as he traces his fingers over the hard plastic. He seems distracted. "Abigail" he says breathlessly, his eyes going dark.

"Yeah" she replies softly and the sound takes him out of his trance and he takes his hand back.

He swallows hard and an apology seems to be forming on his lips but instead.

"Can I kiss you?" The statement shocks him more than her and he turns away quickly, an apology already breaking free.

"Yes."

His lips are on hers in an instance and he holds her hands tightly and gently in his. His kiss is clumsy and unrehearsed but still filled with so much passion, want, desire, and absolute need. These feelings are only reflected by her own lips, attacking his feverishly. Her eyes are closed and she manages to break her hands free and runs them up his chest and tangles them in his overgrown hair.

He follows her lead and runs his fingers through her golden locks. It takes them a long moment to break away for air and when they do they rest their foreheads together and heavily breath in each others scents.

After awhile Abigail pulls herself from him and smiles silently at him as she leaves his room. He finds himself meditating the entire night with the semblance of a smile forgotten on his lips.

**Disclaimer: Thank you for reading this far and please leave a review of what you thought and what you want to see next. I have one question that I hope you will answer in the review, do you want me to include a sex scene or keep this story clean? It will be tastefully done of course I'm pretty much asking if you want this to remain a T rating or turn into an M, I just want to know for the future so I can plan for it.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I update every Sunday with school permitting. Pleases leave a review of what you thought and what you want to see next.**

**Chapter 7: Tired**

"So how'd you sleep?" Abigail says awkwardly as Saren walks into the kitchen. He takes an apple from the counter and cuts it up with a sharp knife. He is quiet for a long moment and concentrates on the fruit.

"Adequately" he finally says, "how did you sleep?"

"Soundly" she says and looks at him "are you feeling better?"

He considers arguing, saying he felt fine before and therefore it is illogical to ask if he is feeling better, but he knew that was a lie. "Yes" he says slowly, testing the word and it's consequences before placing the slices on a plate, cleaning off the counter, and sitting next to her.

"Good" she says and smiles up at his tall figure.

"Yes" he skews a slice and places it carefully in his mouth, mulling it over. Abigail places her attention back into her eggs, the steam still coming up like a wispy cloud.

Halfway through his apple Saren puts down his fork and looks at her, silently considering something. "I believe it would be logical to discuss what had occurred last night."

Abigail pushes her meal away, folds her hands on the table, and looks at him "okay."

They both remain silent for a long time and Abigail almost considers going back to the safety of her meal. "Saren" he looks at her intently, his eyes unmoving from their target, "what is it you wanted to say?"

He takes a moment "I can't help but think it is illogical what we did."

"Did it feel good?" She asks as if she was waiting on those exact words to fall out of his mouth.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything." He looks at her with a confused expression.

"Did it feel right?" She says as if she rehearsed this line of questioning.

"I don't see..." she interrupts him quickly.

"I didn't ask that. Did it feel right?"

"Yes" he finally breathes out and Abigail gives him a sweet smile.

"There we go then." She makes a gesture.

"There we go what?" He knits his brow together in a questioning gaze.

"It's an expression Saren."

"Oh. Then how do we proceed?"

"Slowly I suppose, you might just be stuck with me for a while."

"I do not consider myself "stuck.""

"Good, neither do I" she smiles a little wider.

"So slow?"

"Yes slow."

Abigail returns her attention back to the eggs and Saren does the same with his apple.

* * *

><p>As Abigail finishes putting the dishes in the sink she feels a little funny, she shrugs it off and goes into the barn.<p>

Saren walks up to her as she is brushing Midnight. He puts his hand on her shoulder. She turns her head and looks at him "would you mind getting the the what-ya-ma-call-it" she snaps her fingers and knits her eyebrows in concentration "the saddle, I need to take Midnight out for a run."

"It is below 40 degrees Fahrenheit outside."

"No it's fine, just get it please." Saren looks at her funny and leaves the stall. He carries the heavy saddle on one shoulder and opens the stall door. He drops it quickly and rushes over to Abigail lying in a pile of hay.

"Abigail!" he exclaims and shakes her with urgency. Her eyes flutter open and she looks at him.

"Whats wrong Saren?" She asks quietly.

"You were unconscious." Saren feels her head with his heavy hands.

"Was I?" She shakes away his welcoming hand.

"Yes." She closes her eyes and opens them slowly.

"Oh, I just felt a little dizzy. I just think I over did it." She smiles reassuringly up at him, "I just need a little rest."

"Can you stand up?" She tries and sways a little. She puts her arm around his shoulder and he helps her stand. She tries to take a step forward but instead finds herself being lifted into his well equipped arms.

"You don't need to carry me. I can walk just fine."

"It would be illogical when we are already in this position and I am more than capable of carrying your weight."

She puts her hand to her head "if you say so."

Saren carries her up to her room almost effortlessly and moves the covers aside and places her gently in the bed. She looks at him as he rushes out of the room to grab a glass of water. He takes it to her and she sips at it slowly. She pats the part of the bed next to her and he sits down. "I simply over did myself Saren, there is no reason to worry."

"When one is rendered unconscious it is logical to find oneself "worried"" he raises an eyebrow for emphasis.

"I just need a good night rest and I should be fine in the morning."

"Are you sure about this hypothesis." He looks at her doubtfully and stands up to take the glass that she has now finished.

"You know when you were in this position I climbed into bed with you" she says as an answer.

"Would you like me to do the same" he says with that hint of a smile he sometimes has.

"As a matter of fact, yes I would" she smiles at him broadly as he removes his shoes and she pulls down the covers for him to climb in. Soon after this movement she removes her heavy jacket and he does the same. He lays down next to her and pulls up the bed spread. "That's better" she says as she slinks her arm around him, she feels her eyes getting heavy as she is emerged in a sense of calm and relaxation. "Are you doing that?" she asks sleepily.

"You need rest" he says in a soothing voice, moving his hands over her palms.

"Okay" she says and falls asleep.

She wakes up a few hours later and finds a new glass of water by her side and no Saren. She stands up, feeling much better but still a little off and leaves the room to find him. She finds him in the back splitting wood. When he hears her open the creaky door he turns around and looks at her disapprovingly. "It is illogical for you to be out of bed so soon, you need more rest."

She gives him a teasing look "make me" she says and scurries onto the snow bare foot and laughing. Saren rushes at her and soon has her in his arms bridal style, she lets out a squeak when he does so. She finds herself giggling all the way up to her room.

He practically throws her into the bed and she scrabbles to sit up. He stands with his knees touching the bed and she scooches to sit with he knees on either side of his. Her eyes become serious and she wets her lips. She slowly glides her hands up his torso and slowly removes his jacket. He doesn't move until it has hit the floor.

When it has he kicks off his shoes and leans down to her. She captures his lips in an instant, her eyes growing dark and hungry. "Saren" she almost growls and pulls him on top of her. Both their legs hang off the bed and he holds himself above her at the same time as touching every hint of bare skin on her body. There isn't much to begin with but she is still very quickly flooded with all of his want, mingling inside her with her own. "Saren" she says again and slips her hands up the hem of his shirt.

She pulls it off of him and as he rises off of her a little to allow it she takes advantage of the position and flips them so that she is on top of him, her knees on either side of his slim waist. She kisses him more passionately than she ever thought herself capable of. Her hands frame his face and his slide up and down the sides of her body in a hungry pursuit.

"Abigail" he whispers against her neck before nibbling on her pulse point. She moves her hips in a way that forces him to throw his head back and groan loudly. He looks almost frenzied as he pulls her in closely and repeatedly thrust his pelvic up instinctively. "Abigail" he says from the back of his throat and climbs on top of her and continues the movement, holding her hips in his oversized hands.

"Saren" she says breathlessly as pleasure fogs her vision and she meets each trust. She losses track of time and reaches a climax quicker than expected. Saren quickens his pace before pulling her shirt a little so that he can bite her shoulder. He groans loudly into the skin before falling next to her with heavy breathing. They slowly come down from their high.

"It would be logical for me to change" he says picking at the fabric sticking to his sweaty body.

"Yeah, me too" she says and walks to her wardrobe as Saren leaves for his own room. She strips out of her pants and shirt and climbs into some soft pajamas. She climbs back under the covers and watches Saren walk in wearing pajama pants and an old t-shirt. She pats the bed and he climbs in next to her. "Slowly" she whispers with a smile. He doesn't reply.

"Goodnight" she finally says and switches off the light.

"Goodnight" he says back and holds her in his arms.

* * *

><p>Abigail wakes up feeling refreshed and back to normal. She finds Saren still sleeping with his body strewn over hers protectively. She waits until the roosters crow loudly before pushing his dead weight off of her and pulling her jeans and sweater out of the dresser. She pretends that she doesn't notice his eyes as she pulls off her clothes.<p>

She keeps her back to him as she pulls on her underwear and shimmies into her jeans. She finally turns to him when her shirt is half way up her arms, she gets it over her head and Saren stands up and pulls the garment the rest of the way down.

He holds out his index and middle finger, waiting for her to return the gesture. When she does he moves his fingers down the length of her, sending a gentle jolt of electricity through her body. He drops his hand and kisses her on the forehead before vacating the room and leaving her to pull on her socks.

"Saren" Abigail says as she opens the back door and finds him continuing his work from yesterday. His lifts his head and looks at her "are you hungry?"

"Yes" he says and lifts the ax above his head. She turns back into the house and starts mixing pancake mix.

When he enters the kitchen he finds her humming as she scoops a hot cake onto a large plate. Without fully turning around she hands the plate to him. He grabs a fork and sits at the table. She puts the hot pan in the sink and grabs her own plate and joins him with a bottle of honey.

He watches her carefully as she pour the honey on her food. She starts cutting it with a butter knife when Saren starts speaking. "If we are to be together then it is logical for me to disclose some information."

"Some information?"

"Yes, I am reluctant, as it is something we usually do not discuss with others."

"What is it?" Abigail asks concerned.

"It is a matter referred to as Pon Farr."

"Pon Farr?"

**Disclaimer: Thank you everyone who has read this far. I try to update every Sunday. Please leave a review of what you thought and what you might want to see next.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I post every Sunday with college permitting. Please leave a review with what you thought and what you want to see next. My friend,Rayany Amor, was sexually harassing me with Apple Pie as I was writing this chapter. **

**Chapter 8: So it's kinda like a period**

"Yes, Pon Farr" he says slowly. He looks embarrassed at the same time as appearing completely calm.

"What is this Pon Farr?" Abigail asks after a long silence.

"Pon Farr is a mating cycle in which every seven years during adulthood a Vulcan suffers from a neurochemical imbalance for eight days and must mate during this time or else suffer fatal consequences." He studies his plate as he says this.

"What do you mean by fatal exactly?" She watches him concerned.

"I will die." Saren lifts his head and watches her carefully, she doesn't change her expression.

"Your not undergoing one of these imbalances now are you?" She somehow seems more calm than he is.

"No" Abigail's face lightens a little.

"When will you have your Pon Farr."

"I do not know, I have not experienced Pon Farr as of late."

"So this eight day deadly neurochemical imbalance can strike you at any time?" She knit's her brows together.

"Theoretically yes."

"Well okay then" Abigail says and goes back to her pancake. Saren watches her for a long moment. She notices and says "what" with a mouthful of food.

"I do not believe you understand the scope of this situation."

"Yeah I do, we have to have sex every seven years or else you die. Right?" He knits his brow together in contemplation.

"Yes that is correct, but that is an over simplification." He watches her take another bite.

"I want to be with you and if that is what it takes then so be it."

"If you are certain of your stance." He raises an eyebrow for emphasis.

"I am" she says again with pancake slices in her mouth.

* * *

><p>"Alicia! What are you doing here?" Abigail looks at the tall blonde in front of her.<p>

"Came for a visit remember? We discussed this seven months ago." Alicia smiles broadly at the taller girl.

"We did?" She pauses for a moment and looks in the corner to make sure Saren has stayed in his room like she informed him too before opening the door. "Oh yes I remember." She steps aside and lets her enter the house. She directs her into the kitchen and makes her a hot cup of tea.

"I will be back in like one minute."

"Sure, I'll just wait here" Alicia says to the empty room.

Abigail pretty much sprints into Sarens room. She shuts the door firmly behind her and locks it. "How would you like to sleep in my bed for awhile?"

He raises his left eyebrow and watches her catch her breath. When she does he kisses her hard. She pulls back after a moment and places her hand on his chest. "Not like that. Well kinda but I forgot I invited my friend here, just to stay a couple days. But I did promise her the spare room so how would you like to stay in my bed?"

He responds by kissing her, more gently and slowly than the first time. She moves away after a longer period of time. "I take that as a yes."

"Yes" he finally says, his eyes never leaving hers.

"It'll just be a couple days" she says as she walks to his closet. She takes out a suit case and tosses it to him. "Pack a bag and take it to our room quietly. Oh and we can't let her know your an alien."

"A logical assumption."

"So put on your cowboy hat and we'll figure something out." Saren does that thing were he sighs without really sighing and walks towards her. "I should probably go" she says quietly, her eyes dropping to his swollen lips.

"That would be logical" he holds her arm and kisses her sweetly before letting her go. She climbs onto her tippy toes and pecks his lips before abandoning the room and finding her way to Alicia dazed.

She takes a deep breath before opening the door and plasters a smile on her face. "So there's something I need to tell you."

"Yeah" Alicia looks up at her expectantly.

"So I kinda have a live in boyfriend. I mean he was my ranch hand starting out but now where dating so.." Abigail trails off slowly. "So yeah, I have a live in boyfriend."

"When were you planning on telling me this?"

"It all happened so fast and it's really complicated and I haven't really told anyone yet and.." she trails off again.

"Well okay then?" Alicia looks at her and slowly her face brightens up "I'm so excited for you, I didn't even know you were dating, everyone back home thinks your asexual. I can't wait to tell them about this. Wait I can't wait to meet him!" she heads over to the kitchen door and Abigail stands in front of it firmly. "Where is he, I wanna see the man that took your heart."

"He's getting dressed" Abigail says hurriedly "he'll be down in a moment so just enjoy your tea" she ushers her back into her chair, where she is practically jumping in her seat.

Saren walks in and Alicia rushes from the seat to meet him. She stops very close to him and cranes her neck to see his face "you are surprisingly very tall" she says and turns to Abigail "I thought you liked short guys. Like Bill remember?"

"Who is Bill?" Saren watches them both carefully.

Alicia looks at him excitedly "no one but Abigail's first boyfriend in high school."

"We went on one date, I don't think that constitutes a boyfriend."

"Well it's the closest you've gotten Mrs. Loner." She turns her attention back to Saren "well except until now that is." Alicia takes a step back and looks Saren up and down. She frowns a little "I like your hat" she finally says and sits back down and sips at her tea.

They somehow manage to eat their dinner in piece and get Alicia to bed without any incidences. Abigail sits on her side of the bed and looks over Saren. He is lying still on the bed next to her. She slowly lifts off her shirt and buttons up her pajama top. She stands up and shimmies out of her jeans and lays down next to him. Saren carefully watches her every movement out of the corner of his eye. "Saren?"

"Yes?" Abigail turns on her side and watches a muscle in his neck twitch.

"Can I kiss you?" She smiles at him. And he looks at her from the corner of his eyes.

"Slowly?" He asks and his lips twitch upwards slightly.

"Slowly" she repeats and kisses him with the same sentiment.

**Disclaimer: It was either this short chapter or a full length one next week, so no complaining (whatever you can complain if you want). I just haven't been too inspired with this story and classes start next week. I'll try my best and try to get inspired, I'm not giving up yet so don't think I am. Thank you everyone for reading up this point and please leave me your feedback and what you want to see next, I'll do my best to update next Sunday.**


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